


Inanvhenan

by heeroluva



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Soul Bonding, Hurt/Comfort, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Multi, Polyamory, Sex Magic, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only took one touch for the magic to consume them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inanvhenan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WildAndFreeHearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildAndFreeHearts/gifts).



Cullen was warm and content, the headache that had been his near constant companion for months now barely more than a dull ache as he lay half-asleep and pressed between two solid bodies, when the magic that had fogged his mind and set him aflame vanished. Bolting upright, the movement pulled sounds of protest from his two bedmates, and Cullen felt heat rise to his face as he took note of the expanse of bare skin revealed as the furs slipped low with his movements. What drew his attention and twisted his gut though was the multiple of marks that littered pale skin: bite marks, bruises the shape of his fingers and hands, red patches were his stubble had scraped against delicate skin.

Fingers closed tightly around his wrist, and Cullen tried to jerk away from the unexpected touch as panic began to rise, certain that this was some sort of nightmarish vision, but the hand was surprisingly strong and didn’t budge. Cullen found his gaze drawn to that hand, and followed it up until he met Solas’ eyes, noting the way that his mouth was moving, but Cullen couldn’t hear the words past the rush of blood through his ears.

A hand touched his shoulder, and Cullen’s attention was pulled to Mahanon, to his strange yellow-gold eyes so like a wolf’s, and slowly Cullen felt the panic drain away, until he was left exhausted and empty.

“You are safe, Commander. Nothing will hurt you here.”

Cullen let out a harsh, humorless laugh at Solas’ words, his hand rising to touch the bloody bite mark on Solas’ neck, the memories of the past hours suddenly returning.

Mahanon had convinced Cullen to seek Solas’ aide, sure that the older mage would know something that could help lessen the severity of the worst of Cullen’s withdrawal symptoms. And with Mahanon looking so earnest and hopeful, Cullen hadn’t been able to refuse.

The diagnostic spell that Solas had cast was nothing out of the ordinary, something that Cullen had experienced many times before, and then Mahanon had cast his own, joining it with Solas’. Again something that Cullen had seen before, a way to teach a novice, to show them what to look for. But Cullen wasn’t quite sure what had happened, other than that he felt something _twist_ , when Mahanon’s hand had settled on Cullen’s skin beside Solas’. The sudden rush of lust and heat that had immediately followed had overwhelmed him, robbed him of his senses in his need to feel the skin of both elves against his own, in his need to taste them, claim them, consume them.

Mahanon bent over Cullen’s desk. Solas up against the wall. In his bed. Under him. Around him.

It was a miracle that they’d made it up the ladder to his loft without any of them breaking their lust-addled necks.

Cullen startled and hissed in surprised pain, pulled from his thoughts when Solas touched the ridge of muscle where Cullen’s neck and shoulder met, a surprisingly wicked grin on his face.

“You are not the only one with sharp teeth, lethallin.”

A startled sound came from Mahanon, but Cullen was drawn in by another flash of memory; Mahanon under him, and Solas above him, inside him, and Cullen blushed anew at the sudden unfamiliar twinge of aching muscles in previously unexplored places. Cullen forced the thoughts away and instead focused on what he did know. Lust spells were forbidden, but overcoming them—both the normal type and the type created by desire demons—was a regular part of templar training. This had been neither.

“Not that I’m going to complain about mind-blowing sex, but what exactly happened here? This wasn’t the result of a simple diagnostic spell,” Mahanon asked, directing the question towards Solas.

Cullen had to fight the urge to reach up and brush back the messy curls that fell across Mahanon’s face.

Solas was silent for a long moment before he finally replied, “I am uncertain.”

“Did I…” Cullen trailed off unable to say the words.

Solas’s hand rested more fully over the mark. “Calm yourself. There was nothing had here that was not wanted.”

Mahanon smiled when Cullen glanced at him. “Solas speaks the truth. We’ve talked about taking a third into our bed, but this certainly isn’t what he’d planned.”

“You’re lovers,” Cullen said, shocked not just because he hadn’t heard this rumor.

“Is that truly so shocking, Commander?” Solas asked, the corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. Leaning across Cullen, Solas pulled Mahanon in for a kiss, but Mahanon pushed him away.

“Don’t be cruel,” Mahanon said, a warning in his voice.

“Is it cruel when it’s what the Commander wants?” Solas said.

Finding himself the focus of both elves’ attention, Cullen shifted uncomfortably as he abruptly remembered their current state of undress.

A sudden knock at the door and a voice calling out “Urgent message from Leliana, Commander Cullen,” sent Cullen scrambling, missing the amused look Mahanon and Solas shared.

“Just a minute,” Cullen replied, pulling on his clothes as Solas and Mahanon did the same before making a strategic exit out the side door.

The scout was a welcome distraction.

 

  
Something was wrong. Or maybe not wrong, but _off_. Cullen was certain of that, since that day where he’d—with Solas and Mahanon.

The following day both mages had set off for the Hinterlands with Cassandra and Cole, and Cullen hadn’t been able to shake the strange feeling, a nagging at the edge of his consciousness that would not let him settle.

Mahanon had become a friend of sorts over the months they’d been in Skyhold, but Cullen had spent very little time with Solas, knew little about the elf other than that he was an apostate, not Circle trained, and that he had a strange fascination with the Fade.

Two weeks later found the group returning. Cullen was in the middle of his evening paperwork when the door burst open, revealing a slightly haggard Mahanon.

“Tell me you feel it too. Tell me that I’m not going insane, and that Solas is full of shit,” Mahanon demanded as he crossed the room, rounding the desk as he pushed into Cullen’s space.

“I don’t—” Cullen broke off with a hiss as Mahanon’s hand cupped his jaw, his nerves sparking unexpectedly. “Yes, I feel it.”

Mahanon let out a string of elven that Cullen was fairly certain was more than just a little colorful.

“You think Solas knows what this is?” Cullen asked.

“What doesn’t Solas know?” Mahanon replied, surprisingly bitter.

“He hasn’t said anything about it?”

“He’s been avoiding me.”

Cullen’s brow rose. “You traveled and fought together for two weeks,” Cullen said slowly. “Don’t you share a tent?”

“Not presently,” Mahanon replied, glancing away, back stiff.

Something twisted in Cullen’s gut, and he wondered suddenly if—

“No,” Mahanon said, interrupting Cullen’s train of thought. “You are not the cause of this. Not directly. This is entirely Solas’ doing. He knows what this is.” Mahanon reached out for Cullen’s hand.

Cullen shivered as his hair stood on end, a desire to press closer filling him.

“Fenedhis,” Mahanon hissed as he gave into the same temptation, pressing his face into Cullen’s neck.

It was good, great, amazing even, and Cullen felt the tension that had been building on his shoulders for the past weeks, suddenly lessen, but something didn’t feel quite right: something—or someone—was missing.

“He will tell us,” Cullen said with sudden conviction.

Mahanon snorted, the sound anything but amused. “You sound so sure.”

“He’ll come to us. If he’s feeling this too, he’ll have to.”

Mahanon didn’t seem convinced but nodded his agreement.

 

  
At the slow creak of the door opening, Cullen’s eyes snapped open, but he kept his breathing even as Mahanon slumbered against his back, his breath hot against Cullen’s neck.

Cullen listened as the ladder creaked, and when Cullen felt the shifting of his furs, he sprung, grabbing the figure and twisting so the figure was beneath him.

Veilfire sprang to life beside him, and Solas’ face was suddenly revealed, his features twisted in a snarl. The look he wore reminded Cullen of the traveling shows with caged beasts.

Fingers curled around Solas’ wrists, Cullen let his weight settle onto the elf, noting that despite his apparent unhappiness with his current position, he did not struggle or call forth his magic.

“Solas,” Mahanon said, breaking the silence that had descended over them. “Dirthara-ma emma linuvenin.”

Cullen watched the play of emotions across Solas’ face in fascination, the pain, and guilt, and fear, but most shockingly the naked need, before his face settled into some semblance of calm, and he slowly turned stormy blue eyes towards Mahanon.

When Solas tugged at his wrist, Cullen loosened his grip, letting Solas’ hand slip free, but Solas caught his fingers, pulled his hand over to Mahanon’s own, the one not cupping the veilfire. As the three of them touched, it was as though Cullen had been struck by lightning, and the light suddenly went out, as one or maybe all of them made a startled sound. This was what had been missing.

“Forgive me, inanvhenan,” Solas said, veilfire flaring to life again.

“Inanvhenan?” Mahanon questioned, saying the word slowly as though he was unfamiliar with it.

Maybe he was, Cullen reasoned.

“Inanvhenan,” Solas repeated. “‘One who dwells in your heart.’” Mahanon drew a startled breath, but Solas continued. “Once such was common for our people, until they began worshipping the false gods. It was one of many things I thought lost to us.” Solas turned his attention back to Cullen, raising his hand to cup his cheek. “You are not one of the people. How can this be?” Solas mused, clearly not expecting an answer.

“Do you really think so little of humans?” Cullen retorted half in jest in an attempt to mask his disbelief. Cullen wondered at Solas’ revelation, what it meant for him as a human, when Solas clearly believed _inanvhenan_ to be be elven. Would Solas see it as another thing that humans had stolen from the elves?

For several long moment, Solas seemed to truly ponder the question before glancing at Mahanon. “It seems I still have much to learn.”

“You’re not forgiven,” Mahanon snapped.

“Inanvh—”

“No,” Mahanon said, steel in his voice. “You hurt me, kept secrets from me, and attempted to placate me with pretty words because of your _pride_. No. You will answer my questions.”

Solas looked as shocked as Cullen felt, but he rarely saw the Inquisitor so angry.

“Can this be undone?”

Solas’ face went carefully blank. “Only in death.”

“Was this your doing?”

“No more than it was your own.”

“Speak clearly,” Mahanon snapped.

“I cast no magic. But it is indeed magic that binds us. Ancient wild magic, older than time itself. There is no deceit here.”

“Do you love me?”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Cullen suddenly felt like an intruder, like he was watching something that wasn’t for him, but as much as he felt like he should leave them, he couldn’t seem to make himself move away.

“Ma emma vhenan'ara.”

“And Cullen?”

Cullen suddenly found himself pinned by the stares of both elves, and he looked between them in confusion.

“He is not known to me as you are, but he is inanvhenan, and he will likely become such.”

“Let me see if I understand this,” Cullen said, suddenly needing answers of his own. “We are bound by magic?”

“Yes.”

“What does this bond entail?”

“There is a pull to be close to one another. And as you have experienced there is…” Solas paused for a moment, clearly searching for a word, “… _discomfort_ … when separated.”

“And is this bond why I want to kiss you right now?”

Mahanon made a sound of amusement at their side as Solas’ eyes went wide.

“Inanvhenan aren’t always sexual in nature, but I think our first encounter confirms that our relationship is. However, it will not make you feel things that are not already there. At most it will lessen your inhibitions.”

Cullen wasn’t sure if that was an invitation, but he took it as one to and lowered his head to kiss that smirking face. When Mahanon pressed against his side, Cullen threw his arm over him and pulled him closer still, moving to kiss him as well. He wasn’t quite sure that he believed what Solas had told him, wasn’t quite sure that he knew where he stood with them, but for now, this would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't translate most of these in text because it's from Cullen's pov, and he wouldn't know what they mean. 
> 
> "Lethallin" is a casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar, put is generally only used to refer to elves which is why Mahanon is all wtf when Solas says it to Cullen. 
> 
> "Inanvhenan" is a compound of eyes (which literally translates to inside place) and heart and I use it to mean "One who dwells in your heart" or basically a soulmate
> 
> "Dirthara-ma" means "May you learn" and is basically one of the worst elven curses/insults. I added "emma linuvenin" so when put together it would roughly mean "may you learn of the need of my blood" which I mean to basically say "Fuck you, you hurt me."
> 
> "Ma emma vhenan'ara" mean "you are my heart's desire."


End file.
